


A Fine Line

by exbex



Series: Jim/John and the aftermath [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 18:50:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex





	A Fine Line

The suite is posh, and the bed is perfectly comfortable, with luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets. But there are no windows, and John could swear that the walls are moving inch by inch, closing in on each other.

Most days, a snake in a finely tailored suit walks in, and really, John would be a match for him, except he always manages to have the upper hand, either by starving John until John is forced to consume food that is laced with drugs (just enough to immobilize, not enough to take away his consciousness), or, when he’s in a terribly playful mood, by using a taser. And no amount of fine cotton can soothe the feeling of complete helplessness as John is tied to the bedposts and tortured (for minutes or for hours, he always loses track of his counting).

It’s a fine line that John walks, and his mind is racing, always racing. He wants to give up so badly, because at this point, he could almost deal with Moriarty constantly violating him, if he would stop leaving fresh bruises on his skin. But he panics, because Moriarty is so bored, so easily bored, and if John stops begging, stops fighting, stops being defiant and oh so entertaining, he suspects that Moriarty won’t do anything so merciful as killing him, because he’s so clever. He could conjure endless ways to torture John, ways that John refuses to contemplate because he can’t endure any fresh terror when there’s no time for wounds to scab over.

John very carefully silences the voice that says that Moriarty will soon grow tired of this game anyway, and already has scads of ideas, just waiting.

The voice he tries to recall, the one that reassures him that Sherlock is tirelessly, relentlessly looking for him, that it’s only a matter of time, is fading, as if a curtain is drawn across his mind.


End file.
